


Tiger Lily

by Eavenne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Gen, No Incest, No Romance, No Smut, Strength
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eavenne/pseuds/Eavenne
Summary: It's late at night. There's a serial rapist on the loose, and he sets his sights on a girl. The man thinks the girl will be weak, and easy to have his way with.However, Liechtenstein is hardly a normal girl.(Fill for a prompt on kinkmeme: the above is not the prompt)





	Tiger Lily

**Author's Note:**

> The original fill can be found here "http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/84699.html?thread=514484443#cmt514484443", but this version is much more complete. I made the lousy decision to post the fill as soon as I was done with it, which I really shouldn't have, because I edited and improved upon it afterwards. 
> 
> Either way, this is a semi-crackfill (it became less and less of a crackfill as I edited, though nothing explicit ever happens – if you're here for that, I'm sorry). Something that becomes important (?) later is the prompter's headcanon, that nations can't harm their own people without suffering the same wounds themselves, which I...twisted a little. Anyway, enjoy. (Warning: I did research, but the historical accuracy of this fic is likely somewhat dubious.)

He was a wanted man – a criminal who haunted the streets of Switzerland after dark, who eluded the police at every step.

He’d violated enough women and girls to be considered a serial rapist and get into the papers, which he considered a badge of honour. While he longed for women to recognise him on the street and cry out in terror, he recognised that it was probably in his best interest to be as out-of-sight as possible.

That was why he was standing in a dim, deserted alley, lying in wait.

Admittedly, this wasn’t much fun, and more often than not, he went back empty-handed. After all, most women had the sense not to venture into potential danger. This particular alley was long, narrow and winding, and while it was a good shortcut, the sun had set and it looked rather ominous. The man liked to think he had a hand in the women’s cautiousness, but he didn’t have any statistics to back it up, so it could only remain a theory.

An hour passed, and the man tired of waiting. Just as he was about to turn back and head home, he heard footsteps, and stopped.

Hidden by the night, the glitter in the man’s eyes and the broad grin that distorted his face went unnoticed by the girl, who hurried on, oblivious.

From the little he could see, she was young like the moon that night – a sleek, silver sliver of a moon, and a slender, svelte slip of a girl. Even in the absence of much light, the man could see the shine of her blonde hair, barely brushing her shoulders and decorated by a ribbon to the left of her face. She wore a pretty dress (Red? Pink? It was in too much shadow to tell) that fell just shy of her knees, which were covered by white stockings.

The man tried to stop himself from licking his lips like a stereotypical movie villain, but did so anyway. Hands trembling with excitement, he fought to restrain himself as the girl approached. If her fast pace and furrowed brows were any indication, she seemed to be in a rush to get somewhere. Well, this certainly wasn’t her lucky day – if the man had his way, she wouldn’t be going anywhere for a good while.

She passed before him, and he grabbed.

Her wrist was every bit as dainty as he’d imagined, and his grip tightened, eyes widening with anticipation at seeing bruises bloom beautifully on that ivory skin–

The girl twisted said wrist, wrenched her arm away from him, and ran.

Rather, she jerked her limb away so violently that the man stumbled and almost lost his balance. Such strength for such a small girl! _But it wouldn’t help her_ , the man thought, gathering himself and running after her. After all, he had the advantage of longer paces, and he was an adult and she couldn’t be a day past fifteen.

Still, she was surprisingly swift for her size. It took the man considerable effort to catch up to her, and when he did, she had cleared most of the alley. Lunging forward, he grasped her shoulder and, throwing all his weight on her small frame, slammed her against a wall.

Now he had a good look at his prey. Up close, she was even lovelier than he’d imagined. Her large eyes were wide open and looking away from him, and despite the poor lighting he could tell that they were a beautiful colour, some kind of blue-green that he couldn’t name. He could feel her small shoulder move under his hand as she breathed quickly, and he pressed himself closer to her, grabbing her other shoulder. The girl seemed frozen in place, still staring in that direction.

The man was about to demand that she look at him when he heard her whisper “ _Bruder_ ” and heard someone running towards him.

He turned his head, and saw a young man in a white shirt and dark pants rushing forward, his expression of complete outrage (his eyes were the same brilliant colour as his sister’s, the man noted), a _handgun_ flashing in his left hand.

If the man was in his right mind, he would have turned and fled from the gun-toting angry brother. If said angry brother was in his right mind, he’d have aimed the gun at the man holding his sister, and made threats. Unfortunately, neither of them were thinking straight, and all the man could think of was how much he wanted to see the look on the young man’s face if he saw his sister being raped right before his eyes.

And so the man lifted his right hand and made for the girl’s chest.

Two things happened at once. First, the young man reached him and grabbed the offending arm. Second, the girl brought her knee, only slightly wider than the man’s elbow, up into the man’s crotch.

While the grip on his arm was painful, it was the second thing that stung much, much more. Now, struggling women had kneed the man in the past, and while it had hurt like all hell, he’d just held them down till his desire returned, and paid them back twofold. His threshold for pain was fairly high, after all, and he was used to it.

Now, he felt a searing, scorching, sizzling pain rip through his loins and slice his stomach, and screamed, and screeched, and shrieked at the top of his voice, because it hurt so much he couldn’t even form swears. His voice scratched and broke down into a whine but he couldn’t stop, because he honestly thought he was going to split in half, and it _hurt_ , it hurt so bad. A wave of nausea added to the torment, and he contorted his body into a foetal position, struggling not to puke all over himself. The only thing countering the haze of agony was the coolness of the ground, but even that betrayed him, making him shiver and grow more uncomfortable. He distantly felt some kind of pain at the back of his head, and realised that he’d actually hit the wall opposite the girl, who wasn’t there anymore, and then he didn’t notice anything because he’d passed out from either the concussion or the pain, maybe both.

When the man would next open his eyes, he would find that he was a wanted man no longer, and that he had lost his family jewels to the emergency room surgeons.

 

(a while earlier)

 

When his sister had failed to show up for their meeting on time, Switzerland had grown concerned. He was glad when she messaged him to say that she’d been held up, and that she was on her way, but her mention of taking a shortcut through the nearby alley unsettled him.

It was late, and who knew what kind of unsavoury character might be lurking in the dark? Yes, he had given Liechtenstein self-defence lessons, but that had been many years ago. What if she couldn’t get free or fight back if someone grabbed her? Well, he probably wasn’t giving her enough credit – she was a nation, after all, not just any random girl – but Switzerland was still worried.

After a few minutes of deliberation, sped along by his remembering that there was a serial rapist on the loose, Switzerland turned and strode towards the alley. There was a bad feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite place, but he tried to swallow it down, reminding himself that Liechtenstein had told him he was a little too paranoid and to loosen up.

Whatever he’d expected, however, it definitely wasn't the sight of his sister pinned against the wall by a leering man. Hot blood pounding through his veins, Switzerland whipped out his handgun and removed the safety, fully intending to shoot the bastard in the face for touching his sister like that. The fact that he would share his citizen’s pain didn’t even occur to him, and so Switzerland raised his arm and aimed. But then he saw Liechtenstein staring at him with wide eyes, and when he contemplated shooting someone right in front of her, his hands shook, throwing his aim off.

While Switzerland had seen his fair share (too much) of war and bloodshed and people’s guts impaled, Liechtenstein had seen much less – economic hardship, certainly (it still hurt to remember the state she’d been in on that rainy day), but there was nothing quite like being splattered by a dead man’s blood as he was felled before your eyes.

Switzerland’s mind was growing clouded by memories of wounds and fallen soldiers (his _children_ , whom he loved) from times past – his resolve faltered, and he couldn’t shoot, not when his sister was there to witness it. She didn’t deserve to experience such a thing, and if Switzerland had his way, she would never know such horrors. But he was angry, and he had to do _something_ , and he wanted to get to that man and rip his hands away from Liechtenstein’s body and punish him for daring to touch his dear, innocent sister.

So, instead of threatening the man, he ran towards the pair, his gun (with the safety replaced) in his left hand while he prepared to grab the man with his right. Liechtenstein mouthed _Bruder_ , and the man turned to look at him – and, with a smirk, released his sister’s shoulder and reached towards her chest.

Two things happened at once. First, Switzerland, even more furious than before, grabbed the man’s arm. Second, Liechtenstein followed her brother’s self-defence advice from so many years ago, and brought her knee to the man’s crotch.

In fact, she did so with such force that the arm flew from Switzerland’s grasp, the man himself hitting the wall behind him (neither of the nations were entirely sure that he did not fly), and collapsing to the ground with loud screams.

Normally, Switzerland would have made sure the man was no threat, comforted his sister, and then called the police. Unfortunately, he was in contact with (his bare hand on the man’s bare lower arm – Switzerland had forgone his gloves since he wasn’t in uniform) the man when Liechtenstein had kneed him. Which was why Switzerland found himself sharing the pain that the man was experiencing. It was a terrible, paralysing agony; he cried out, doubling over and clutching his abdomen (The pain had reached his stomach, and no matter how much it hurt, his hand wasn’t about to go any lower). He could feel a sheen of sweat forming on his face, and all he could do was to _breathe in, breathe out_ , and try not to moan or make any kind of sound to reveal how much pain he was actually in – his pride was at stake here. Honestly, Switzerland had been in so many battles that he was used to pain; this, however, bowled him over.

Preoccupied by his suffering and the steady stream of curses flowing through his head, Switzerland barely registered Liechtenstein’s mortified apologies, until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

…This was stupid – _he_ should be the one consoling his sister, not the other way around. She was under _his_ protection, and she’d just been assaulted – surely Liechtenstein, his sweet sister, was deeply affected. And there Switzerland was, burdening her with his own weakness. He had to remedy this immediately.

“A..are you alright, Liechten?” Switzerland asked, forcing his voice through the haze of pain, and not quite looking at his sister.

“Are _you_ alright, _Bruder_?” was the response.

 _No_ , Switzerland thought, but he made an effort to nod and relax his tensed muscles.

If this was how it felt for him, despite his heightened pain resistance as a nation, it was no wonder that the man had passed out. Well, it was probably due to the concussion he likely had from hitting the wall, but Switzerland liked to think that the pain had a factor as well.

It took quite a while for Switzerland to feel strong enough to stand up and call the police, and he later learned that the man’s manhood and family jewels were all severely damaged by the damage Liechtenstein had done. Well, it served the man right for trying to violate his sister.

To Switzerland’s surprise, Liechtenstein wasn’t as shaken by the experience as he’d expected – she was certainly upset, but their conversations revealed that she was more concerned for her brother, and that she was confident of fighting the man off, even without Switzerland’s intervention. In fact, Liechtenstein was about to escape from the man’s grasp when Switzerland appeared and pointed a gun at him. Naturally, she stopped moving, so that it’d be easier for her brother to hit his target. Upon hearing this, Switzerland could only remark (with no small measure of pride) that Liechtenstein had good sense, and mentally kick himself for having doubted her ability.

That settled, Switzerland was left to reflect on Liechtenstein’s exemplary demonstration of kneeing a man in the groin. While this was the first time he’d experienced being kneed, Switzerland knew the pain of an ill-fitted saddle on a galloping horse, and could safely conclude that what he had felt was, inexplicably, many times worse. However, his lack of experience meant he couldn’t be absolutely certain whether this amount of pain was caused by Liechtenstein’s strength, or if this was actually _completely normal_. Then again, like he’d thought before, Liechtenstein was a nation, after all, not just any random girl – it’d be absurd if a single, tiny knee to the groin could incapacitate a grown man to that ridiculous degree (the man had been curled up in a foetal position and screaming, for heaven’s sake) under normal circumstances. Now, if this was simply par for the course…that was a terrifying thought indeed.

Switzerland was just glad he hadn’t offered to let his sister try out the move on him back when he’d taught her self-defence.

**Author's Note:**

> Bruder = Brother
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the fic – I wanted to delve deeper into how Liechtenstein isn't as innocent of the world as Switzerland thinks she is, and some other things, but couldn't find a good way to fit them in. If you liked it (or didn't), feel free to drop a review down below – I'd really appreciate it. Thanks!


End file.
